Children of the Moulin Rouge
by angelfan86
Summary: Satine has a child befor she meets Christian. Christian adopts his nephew when his sister dies. The two worlds once again collide.X I'm putting this story on hold for a while. I've got a bit of writer's block as far as how to continue.X
1. Chapter 1

Author's note None of this belongs to me. I get nothing except for fun out this writing experience.

_January 13, 1894_

_My Darling Daughter,_

_I am writing you this letter because I will not be able to do all of the things a mother should be able to do. I will not be able to hear you say your first word. I will not be able to see you take your first step. I will not be there when you learn to read and write. I will not be the one to teach how to count. However, there are several things that I believe you should know. I want you to know to know how much I love you. It is so very painful to be forced to send you away. Know that I will think of you often. You are the most wonderful thing that has ever happened to me. Finally, know that, if I am able, I will come and claim you in the future. _

_I also want you to remember that because I love you so much, I am sending you away from me. I live in a place that would not be a suitable environment to raise a child in. I want you to have a happy life and receive a good education. I know that you will make me proud. Even if we never meet again, I will always love you._

_Come what may,_

_Mother_

Satine looked at her child, who was sleeping peacefully in a corner. She closed her eyes and thought back to the day when Mesiure Zeidler had found out that she was pregnant. He had been livid. Almost without thinking, he had urged her to have an abortion. She had refused.

_"Satine, it's the only way." She turned on him furious. "No, Harold! It isn't the only way. I don't care what you say; I am not giving up my child." Zeidler's face softened with compassion. "Think about what you are saying, the Moulin Rouge is no place to raise a child."_

Harold was right. She didn't want her little girl, her little Natalie, growing up in the Moulin Rouge amongst courtesans and cancan dancers. She had then decided to send the child away. She had a friend who ran an orphanage in London. She had told Satine that she would be more than willing to care for her daughter. Tonight was the night that Satine had chosen to take Natalie to her. She put the letter in the blanket she had wrapped Natalie in. She picked up her sleeping daughter, a small bag of baby clothes and her own suitcase. Then, ever so quietly, she slipped away from the Moulin Rouge and made her way to the train depot.

1901 (London)

Christian sat beside his sister as she lay in bed. She was dying of pneumonia. She had been battling the illness for over a month, but it was no use and her life was quickly draining from her. "Christian…" She whispered as he leaned in to hear her. "Christian, promise me…" She paused to cough, her lungs filling up with fluid. "Promise me you'll take care of James when I'm gone." Christian nodded, he couldn't speak. He wasn't ready to lose another woman that he cared about; it hadn't even been a year since he'd held Satine as she had died of consumption. His sister saw the pain in his tear-filled eyes. She smiled weakly. "I know it will be hard, Chris. But you both need each other right now." As she finished saying this she began to cough again. She was right. She had lost her husband in a train wreck; James had been born the month before. She had been the only parent her soon had known. Christian had helped her before he had gone to Paris, and he had returned when he heard she was ill. "Don't worry about us." He said, holding back tears. "Thank you… Chris… tell James… I love him… I… love… you… both… Come…what… may." She whispered, when she had finished saying this, she closed her eyes, gripped Christian's hand and then died." "I love you too." He whispered. She was at peace now. His sister was gone; James was his responsibility now. He gently kissed her forehead in a final farewell and walked out of the room. The service would be small, but he would think about that later; right now James needed him. Christian stood and walked, slowly, out of the room.

One week later

It was the evening after his sister's funeral, and Christian was in the library, with his father. "What are you planning to with James?" "I'm going to take him back to Paris with me." "Paris! Don't be absurd, Christian. Now, your sister wanted…" "Beth wanted me to take care of James. The best way for me to do that is to take him to Paris." "Why not come back to London?" "Because there are too many reminders of his mother's death here and I believe the move would do him good. Besides, Paris is my home now." "What about his education?" "There are plenty of fine teachers in Paris." His father sighed. "I suppose you are right. What will happen to the house?" "I've made arrangements for the books to be brought to Paris, along with James's belongings. As for everything else, you can decide what to do with it all." His father nodded. Although he would never admit it, he was proud of the man Christian had become since he moved to Paris. "When will you leave?" "Tomorrow morning." "Very well. Now that everything is settled, I must bid you farewell. Give James my love." "I will, father." Christian stood and walked his father to the door. When his father was gone, Christian went up stairs to his room. He climbed into bed expecting sleep to overtake him. Instead, his thoughts turned to Satine. He would give anything to have her lying there beside him. How he missed her. He could still remember the few times they had made love. Her warm skin had felt so right next to his. Why hadn't he met her sooner? He might have been able to save her. Eventually he fell into a deep, dreamless sleep. He woke early the next morning and took James with him, back to Paris.


	2. Chapter 2

Author's Note I don't own any of the characters and I'm not getting paid.

1914 (The Moulin Rouge)

Marie was sitting on Satine's bed. It was something she had done frequently in the past fifteen years since Satine's death. She looked at the old photograph of Sarah Bernhardt and noticed, for the first time, a piece of paper sticking out from behind it. She stood and walked over to retrieve the paper. It turned out to be a letter, written by Satine. The date on it was the same as the day she had died.

_Dear Harold,_

_Three years ago, I gave my little girl away to my cousin, Nicole. I did not want her to grow up in the Moulin Rouge. Since you are reading this letter, I must be dead. When my Natalie is old enough, I want you to go my cousin and bring Natalie back here. It is my wish that all of my belongings go to her, with the exception of one item. My golden, heart shaped, locket is to go to Christian. I broke the one rule of the underworld with Christian. I fell in love with him. Tell both Natalie and Christian how much I loved them both. Tell the Duke that I despised him with all of my being. As I write this letter, I have three regrets. First, I will never know what sort of person my little Natalie turned into. Second, I fell in love with Christian too late. Finally I allowed the Duke to have too much control over my life. Take care of yourself, Harold. Give my love to all at the Moulin Rouge._

_The Show Must Go On,_

_Satine_

Marie folded the letter back up. She needed to show it to Harold; after all, it was addressed to him. If Satine's daughter had been three when this letter was written, she would be eighteen by now. She left Satine's room and went to find Harold. She soon found him at the rehearsal. "Harold, there's something you need to see." He looked at her, slightly annoyed. "Can it wait, Marie?" "Actually, I'm afraid it's quite urgent." "Very well, continue rehearsing, I'll be back in a moment." He called over his shoulder as he followed her to his office. He closed the door behind him. "Now just what is this all about, Marie?" She handed him the letter. "Read it." Harold sat down behind his desk. When he finished reading, he looked up at Marie. "Where did you find this?" He asked; his voice was shaking slightly. "It was behind one her photographs that she had hanging on the wall." "Who else knows about it?" "No one, I just found it a moment ago." He folded the letter back up. "Find the Duke; he'll want to know about." Marie looked surprised. "The Duke, are you sure? Shouldn't I find Christian first? And what about the child?" "Leave that to me. Find the Duke."

One week later (London)

Natalie sat in the window seat of a large bay window, in a large stone house. Her best friend was sitting next to her. Rain was steadily pouring down outside. Natalie closed the book she had just finish reading aloud. "That's terrible, I can't believe she died in his arms so soon after they finally declared their love to the world." Her friend said as she whipped away tears. Natalie grinned. "Julia, did I found the box with all the letters my mother sent me?" Julia shook her head. "Come on, I'll show you." She put the book down; it was titled Moulin Rouge. Natalie led the way to her room. A large suitcase was lying open and nearly full on her bed. "Natalie, what are you doing with that suitcase?" "I'll explain in a minute. Here, read this." She handed Julia an old letter. Julia opened it.

_My Dearest Natalie,_

_I can hardly believe that this is true, but I am in love! His name is Christian. We met almost completely by accident. Toulouse set us up, and at first I thought that Christian was someone else. Christian is the most wonderful man I have ever met. _

_We were trying to keep our love a secret; however, we were discovered. It isn't safe for us to stay here. Christian is going to take me away from here. We haven't decided where yet. I'll write to you once we get there. One day I'll come back for you, and then the three of us will be a family. Until then, remember I'll love you until the end of time._

_Love always,_

_Mother (Satine)_

Julia looked at Natalie. "Satine? The same Satine as the one in Moulin Rouge?" Natalie nodded with excitement. "I believe so. I'm going to Paris tonight." "How exciting! But isn't your mother dead?" "Yes, but Christian isn't. I want to meet her friends." "I'm so happy for you. You have to promise to write to me and tell me absolutely everything." Natalie smiled. "I promise." "She placed a few more carefully chosen items in her suitcase and then closed it. "Let's go down stairs. My train leaves in two hours." The two girls went downstairs for a final farewell.

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Like it so far? Send me reviews if you want to read more! 


	3. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer:** Don't own anything or get paid.

**Author's note A:** A giant thank you to my reviewers so far.

Two and a half hours later, Natalie was on the train watching the country pass by. A small, weaselly looking man was seated across from her. He seemed distracted as he fidgeted with his hat. Natalie opened her book and looked at the photograph of her mother that she had put inside it. With the exception of her dark hair, which hung in soft curls around her pale face, she looked exactly like her mother. "My way… my way…" The man muttered. Natalie turned to look at him. He was asleep. She opened her book (Moulin Rouge) and began to read absorbing every detail. When she was halfway through, the man spoke. "I don't like that ending." Natalie looked at him puzzled. "Pardon me?" "I said, I don't like that ending." Natalie sighed and closed the book. "Neither do I." He looked surprised. "You don't like the fact that she chose the penniless writer over the rich and powerful Duke?" Natalie shook her head. "No, I liked that. I didn't like the fact that she died." "Oh… that… But wouldn't that fit with the Bohemian point?" "Yes, but it also means that my mother is dead." The man looked confused. "My mother's name was Satine. She gave me away soon after I was born." "I'm afraid, I still don't see your point." "My point is this; I believe that my mother and the Satine of the _Moulin_ _Rouge_ are one in the same." The man's eyes lit up. "Do you have proof of this?" "I have my mother's letters which mention key characters that also appear in this book: Christian, Toulouse, Harold Zeidler, etc." The man clapped his hands in delight. "I believe my dear, that you are the very person I was in London trying to find. That is, if your name is Natalie." She nodded. "And who might you be?" "I am the Duke!" Natalie looked stunned. "You're the Duke?" He nodded. Natalie's face fell. Her mother's letters had told her of the cruelty of the Duke. "I loved your mother, but that damned writer stole her from me. However, generous man that I am, I shall allow you to live in my house as well as help you find answers to your past." He said eagerly. Natalie smiled politely. "Thank you; however, I already have accommodations." "And where might that be, my dear?" Natalie was beginning to loath this man. "I fail to see, sir, that my accommodations are any of your concern. Furthermore, I must kindly request that you cease calling me 'my dear' as I find it consider it an insult." The Duke grew angry. "You are my property and I shall call you whatever I please!" Natalie stood indignantly. "I am no one's property, least of all yours. Good day, sir!" She picked up her handbag and suitcase and left the cabin. She was walking hurriedly down the aisle, and she didn't notice the young man coming towards her. He was engrossed in a letter. Neither noticed the other until it was too late.

They collided. Natalie's book and handbag were knocked to the ground. "A thousand apologies, Miss. My fault entirely." He said as he knelt to retrieve her belongings. Natalie shook her head. "Nonsense, I should have been paying better attention." She said as he returned her possessions. The young man smiled a warm, friendly smile. "Do you mind if I ask where you were headed, suitcase in tow. After all, Paris isn't for another few hours." Natalie sighed. "I haven't decided yet. To tell you the truth, I was simply trying to get away from the incredibly rude man in 666." The young gentleman smiled again. "Well then, allow me to offer assistance. I'm in 447 and would be more than delighted to share it with you if you wish." He said as he held out his hand. Natalie smiled. "Your offer is indeed generous; however, I don't think you told me your name." "It's James." "James, I'm Natalie." She replied taking his hand. She was quite intrigued by this charming young man.

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**Author's note:** I don't know much about trains, but there is a reason I used 666 for the cabin number. It is the number of the devil and that's what I think of when I think of the duke. Also, I have no idea how long a train ride would be from London to Paris. Like it? Please review. 


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